Claire Hodgson

"I make theatre that changes people's lives." A grand claim maybe, but at its best, this is what my work really is. I came up with this line with Clore fellows Gargi and Tid, while walking through the beautiful gardens at Ashridge Business School. We were at the end of an intensive week of training around media awareness, advocacy and branding.

This involved receiving a 360° feedback report (compiled from an in-depth survey of 18 close colleagues) and presenting live to TV cameras, in a radio studio, and to fellow Clores. I now know: I sometimes swallow the end of my sentences, I lose eye contact with my audience too often, speaking with notes holds me back, and the people who work for me are often itching for me to talk more directly to people who are being difficult and counterproductive.

On the positive side: apparently I have a 'sexy' voice when on radio (though strangely no one mentioned 'having the right face for TV') I am engaging when talking, and my preferred presenting style (using stories and anecdotes, as well as personal passion) works for a range of audiences. And the people I work with believe that I help people become what they only dreamed was possible.

I was very moved by the feedback. Moved to change the things that I don't do well – the comments were true and painful – but moved also by the strength of support and belief my colleagues have in me.

Ben Summerskill from Stonewall spoke during the week and his comments about effective advocacy hit home – he talked of changing the minds of people who are not your natural allies. If you are too comfortable in a room, then you might not be in the right one. Advocacy is about persuading others of the credibility of your position.

My dad was an activist who often brought together unusual alliances to get things done. When fighting against a sewage works being built on a green site in the centre of my hometown, he would gather Surfers against Sewage, Tory councillors, the local community and the local Labour MP all in the same room.

Advocacy is about bringing together everyone who has an interest and if they don't perceive an interest, it's about convincing them of how the issue relates to their position.

The Olympics approaches, and for my company, Diverse City, it's a catalyst moment. We are producing Breathe, an unlimited commission that has top billing at the opening celebrations for the sailing events on Weymouth beach.

Created by leading artists Dave Toole, Jamie Beddard and Alex Bulmer, it will play to a crowd of over 15,000 (the same amount as the final of X Factor). We have a community cast of 50 performers from across Dorset. Oh, and 25 visiting Brazilian performers joining us as well.

I have been advocating for this project because we have to raise a final £30,000 by the end of the month. We have achieved three-quarters of our fundraising. I am asking people to sponsor a young person for £1,000. Many of the cast have learning disabilities and physical impairments, and we need a fair amount of support to enable everyone to be on that stage and looking spectacular.

It has not been difficult to advocate for this project. I am passionate that everyone is represented at the Olympics and that the Battle for the Winds opening celebrations are beautiful, memorable and dreamt about for days afterwards. The project has undoubtedly changed lives and widened horizons.

Breathe has changed my life too. "Remember you are anyone's equal but no one's superior" – this quote has encouraged me to knock on doors I would previously have stood outside. Advocacy is also an honour – you are one, but carry the hopes of many. The lovely thing is that this big Olympics show is on 28 July, which was my dad's birthday. So here's to you dad, and the power of unlikely alliances.

Marie Nixon

At one time in my life feedback meant the hideous screech from speakers in a gig venue, the correct reaction from all present to involuntarily clamp their hands over their ears while pulling a pained "make it stop" expression and swearing a bit. Feedback in a leadership context can be no less painful to the senses but all the more necessary.

Why? Well, without it you're wandering around in a world of ignorance shored up by supportive comments from team mates and allies, scanning the world for evidence that reaffirms your own prejudices about yourself. Does a phone fiddling audience mean "I am a terrible public speaker" or "Wow, I'm so good they're tweeting everything I say"?

Feedback exposes you to a wider range of views, gives you information and helps you make better decisions. You are welcome to think the feedback is wrong – it sometimes will be – but you get to decide that with the benefit of another perspective.

With Clore, we're encouraged to give and get feedback. Recently our colleagues were invited to tell it like it is. Under the truth-encouraging cloak of anonymity, they fed back on our real strengths and things we could do with improving. It made interesting reading. And good lord was it honest. But if you're dropping truth bombs, the way to avoid the shrapnel is, in my view, to get kind, get specific and practice.

I'm no HR professional but for my money you could bin the traditional yearly appraisal. It lets everyone off the hook from giving timely, accurate feedback – it might actually be useful saving it up for a sterile, annual encounter where both parties rack their brains for something of value to say. Replace it with a culture of regular, kind, two-way, specific feedback and you'll get better at what you do and more quickly too.

There are lots of different ways to get good feedback. I just worked on the opening of the Artist's Taking the Lead project, Flow. It's open for months but from chatting with visitors we already know people are having a really, really good time on board. Good information. Formal feedback will tell us more and help us improve further.

Which brings me to the thorny subject of being liked. I love being liked, I really do. You'd have to be some kind of weirdo not to (and often women are trained to overdevelop our 'pleasing' gene) and despite all this cheerleading for feedback, I am finding some of the comments I've received pretty tough to take. Show me a person who hasn't stomped angry-tearily around an office car park and I'll show you a liar.

But just as a valued friend wouldn't withhold information that would help you, it's sort of passive-agressive to keep back information that might be helpful just because of your own dependence on being liked. Go for being respected instead (or as well).

The flipside to feedback is listening. Proper listening and taking heed. We've had an array of the most accomplished, successful, glistening culture professionals meet us at Clore and not one has exuded an aura of "I am a mega genius who needs no help from my know-nothing coworkers" – quite the opposite in fact.

All have been clear that close, active listening to peers and colleagues is near the top of their top three leadership skills. So now you know that's what the good bosses are into, unclamp your hands from your ears, tune in to the uncomfortable squeal and foster a culture of feedback at your organisation.

Give it, get it and get on with being greater.

Marie works across the north of England at the Arts Council England – follow her on Twitter @mariemarie0